


Check the Locks. Check Them Again.

by eyeslikeonyx



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breaking and Entering, Dark, Horror, Mild Blood, Not Hockey Players (Hockey RPF), Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Relationship(s), Psychological Horror, Stalking, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 20:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17373059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeslikeonyx/pseuds/eyeslikeonyx
Summary: Mitch has a habit of locking all of his doors and windows when he gets home and then checking and rechecking every single lock on his doors and windows before he can fully relax in his own home. He doesn’t think about what would happen if he slips up. Or he tries not to, anyway.





	Check the Locks. Check Them Again.

**Author's Note:**

> I normally don't write anything this dark, but I was inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-I9ckO5YgCE) and [this dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WpDY5-rrck0) to do something way out of my comfort zone for once. Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Comments and kudos are most certainly welcome! You can find me on [Tumblr.](https://eyeslikeonyx.tumblr.com)
> 
> More detailed warnings in the end notes just to be safe, but they contain major spoilers. If I missed anything, please let me know so I can tag appropriately.
> 
> (PLEASE pay attention to the tags and the warnings. I am begging you. This is not cute or fluffy in any way, shape, or form.)

Mitch has a habit of locking all of his doors when he gets home and then checking and rechecking every single lock on his doors and windows before he can fully relax in his own home. He doesn’t think about what would happen if he slips up. Or he tries not to, anyway.

Some nights, it’s easy to just lock everything up and go to bed immediately after. Other nights, though, the reasons for the four locks on the front door and the state of the art security system that he pays a shit load for every month are all Mitch can think about. He drives himself crazy with the past instead of trying to focus on the potentially bright future ahead of him.

He works for the Toronto Maple Leafs as a sports analyst and has just been informed that he has been promoted as one of the top analysts that will be on live television every game. His brother and sister-in-law are having a baby soon, which means plenty of babysitting and spoiling his new little niece or nephew to be. He even has another date in a couple of days with a guy he met through one of his coworkers who loves the Leafs and the Raptors just as much as him. His name is John and he bought Mitch flowers on their first date. He even paid for both of their meals.

“I could’ve paid for that,” Mitch had insisted. John had simply grinned and taken Mitch’s hand gently into his own.

“You can pick up the tab next time.”

The second date was even better than the first, and Mitch couldn’t believe his luck when John asked him out on a third date.

“You must really like putting up with me, eh?” Mitch had teased over junk food in a McDonald’s parking lot. John had stared at him, but not unkindly. He had given Mitch a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re not someone I just put up with, Mitch,” John had said. “I like you a lot, and I can see this going somewhere. Can you?”

For the first time in a long time, Mitch feels wanted for the right reasons. He really likes John and has a good feeling about him.

The fact that Mitch didn’t talk himself out of going on that first date weeks ago is pretty impressive. This is Mitch’s first time dating anyone since things went so wrong with Auston, and Mitch wishes he didn’t have to think about Auston every time he even thought about accepting a dinner invitation with an attractive man. Mitch has turned down enough dates, and he knows he needs to put himself out there again if he wants to try and move forward with his life.

He knows it’s not healthy to make decisions based on how certain people will react, but Mitch knows the danger that lurks still after a violent break-up, two breached restraining orders, and a very quiet move from one side of town to the other. He knows what evil looks like, and he knows what it’s capable of.

He knows what _Auston_ is capable of. He still has the mental and physical scars and his dreams to play in the NHL shattered at his feet to show just what kind of damage Auston has done, can do, _will_ do.

With all the locks secure, pajamas on after a scalding hot shower, and his Stanley, Mitch’s two year-old Rottweiler, inside, Mitch takes a deep breath and retreats back to his couch to watch the last period of the Coyotes/Stars game, Stanley cuddled into his side. He calls his mom to let her know that he has the house locked up and that he’s safe, like he does every night when he finally gets home.

“You sure you checked everything?”

“Yes, Mom,” Mitch promises. “I’m fine.”

Bonnie breathes a sigh of relief.

“I just worry about you, is all.”

Mitch sighs heavily into the phone and runs a hand through his drying hair.

“I know.”

“You can still come live with me and your father for a little while. We miss having you around.”

Mitch’s eyes and nose burn.

“It’s better this way,” he weakly insists. “It’s one thing if he tries to hurt me. I don’t think I would be able to live with myself if anything were to happen to you or Dad. This is my cross to bear, not yours.”

Bonnie is quiet for a long time, and Mitch almost thinks she’s hung up. She takes a deep breath. Mitch can picture that sad smile she always gives him whenever they talk about why things are the way that they are.

“You’re still my baby,” Bonnie finally says. “I’m always going to worry about you.”

Mitch smiles sadly at the television.

“I know, Mom.”

They only talk for a couple more minutes before Mitch finally bids his mother good night and hangs up the phone. He focuses back on the game quickly after, letting himself drift in and out of sleep while scratching behind Stanley’s floppy ear.

The game is just going into overtime and Mitch is close to falling asleep when Stanley suddenly growls all low and threatening, never taking his eyes off of the window by the front door.

“What is it, Stanley?” Mitch asks quietly. Stanley suddenly snaps his jaw and jumps off of the couch to run to the window. He barks loudly at whatever might be outside, and Mitch’s heart is in his throat. Stanley doesn’t normally get aggressive or start barking at stuff or people unless he feels like they’re a threat. He’s a fairly mellow dog, especially for the type of breed he is, but Mitch didn’t get him just to have another life in his house.

Mitch is slow to stand; his hands tremble as he reaches for the baseball bat hiding under the couch. Each step he takes towards the curtain covered window is careful and quiet, even as Stanley continues his incessant barking and growling at whatever it is that has him spooked. Mitch, bat at the ready, quickly pulls back the curtain only to be met with a squirrel standing on top of one of the hedges with a nut in his mouth.

Mitch’s shoulders sag.

“Relax, buddy, it’s just a squirrel,” he says as he kneels down next to Stanley and starts scratching his ears. Stanley whines constantly and tries to claw at the window. Mitch sighs and goes to grab Stanley’s treats sitting on the coffee table. He shakes the bag full of bacon strips, and Stanley is immediately sold on a treat.

Mitch decides that his nerves are too shot to watch the game as it heads into a shootout, and he turns off the television and lets Stanley back outside before they have to go to bed. He locks the back door as soon as Stanley is outside and walks back into the living room to check the locks on the windows and the door again—just to be safe, he says to himself.

He can hear Mrs. Walker’s dog barking incessantly in the backyard, and Stanley is echoing all of his barks in return. Mitch tries to will his heart to slow down once more before he has to go to bed. Some water usually does the trick.

Mitch trudges into the kitchen for that much needed glass of water, his mind swimming with awful scenarios of what-ifs. He almost drops the glass he takes out of the cabinet, his hands are shaking so badly.

Mitch takes a deep breath and braces himself against the counter. How is he supposed to move on if even the slightest movement in or around his own home and barking dogs have his knees almost buckling with fear? Why can’t he shake away this looming paranoia of what’s out there? Why can’t he just move on already?

Why can’t Auston move on already?

The blood pounding in Mitch’s ears is deafening as he tries to will his anxiety to disappear. He needs to breathe in, breathe out, count to ten, take his mind off of the reason for his anxiety. His eyes are shut tight and his body is so tense. Deep breaths are harder to come by, and there’s drops of perspiration trickling down his spine. He just needs to calm down.

His eyes snap open, suddenly, when he feels the presence of another body standing directly behind him.

He slowly turns his head as far back as it can go and screams.

Auston’s dark eyes are just as intense as they’ve always been—just as cold. One of his large hands immediately clasps itself firmly over Mitch’s mouth while the other roughly twists Mitch around to shoves the small of Mitch’s back into the edge of the counter.

Mitch tries to rip Auston’s hands away from his body, kicking away at Auston’s shins and knee caps to no avail.

“Will you hold still?” Auston growls through gritted teeth. Mitch pushes Auston’s face away with his hands and finally lets his instincts kick in. He harshly bites the palm of Auston’s hand and lets his teeth really sink in and do as much damage as they can before Auston howls and lets go.

Mitch takes his opportunity for what it is and kicks Auston in the groin, _hard,_ before making a run for it. Auston shouts at Mitch, calling him a fucking asshole, but Mitch doesn’t stick around to listen to Auston’s suffering. He heads straight for the living room and begins to dive over the couch to get to his phone. Auston is hot on his tail and wraps his arms tightly around Mitch’s waist. He hoists him in the air and tries to carry him to the front door.

Mitch is still screaming at Auston to let him go as he flails his limbs around until he manages to get an elbow into Auston’s face and a heel into Auston’s sneaker covered toes. Auston lets Mitch go, and Mitch sprints straight for the phone that had fallen to the floor. He clicks the home button on his phone five times as fast as he can before his phone is snatched from his hand and thrown into the wall, most likely shattered beyond repair.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Auston says as he slowly stalks toward Mitch, who is walking backwards just as slowly. Mitch’s hands shake once more as he tries to think of a way to make it out of this alive. He has no phone, no way to get to Stanley, and no true escape route since his windows are shatter proof.

He’s going to have to fight his way out of this.

He runs toward Auston, fists flying, and they begin a violent brawl in the middle of the living room. Mitch can feel his knuckles bending and breaking under the pressure of trying to damage Auston’s face, his ribs, anything and everything that is breakable in and on Auston’s body. He grabs the lamp on the end table by one of the recliners and throws it in Auston’s general direction. Auston ducks out of the way just in time, much to Mitch’s dismay. The end table isn’t far behind the lamp, and only a table leg manages to snag Auston’s hand. Auston swears and charges after Mitch.

Mitch tries to run again, but Auston has his fist in Mitch’s oversized t-shirt and shoves him into the wall between two of the house’s windows.

Auston starts rolling punches into Mitch’s face, most likely breaking the arch of Mitch’s eyebrow bone and his cheekbone. Auston’s hands are larger and stronger and do much more damage than Mitch’s own ever could, but Mitch still fights as hard and as long as the adrenaline and fear will allow him.

There isn’t much more that Mitch’s body can take, though, as Auston finally lands a violent blow to Mitch’s jaw and flings the smaller man into the couch. Mitch can feel the blood seeping out of his gums and his eye is almost swollen shut, but he still tries to rise to his feet to hopefully fight Auston off and make his escape into the neighborhood.

Auston’s hand immediately reaches out for Mitch’s neck, and he squeezes. Mitch’s airways are blocked off and he can’t breathe. Oh God, he can’t _breathe._

Auston shoves him back into the couch and stares evilly down at his victim. Mitch cowers into the corner of the couch, knowing what’s about to come next. He begs for Auston to not hurt him anymore, to just leave him alone and leave his house. He peeks over his forearms that are protecting his face—

Auston isn’t there.

The lamp and nightstand are standing in the corner by the recliner, still and undamaged.

Mitch’s phone is still resting on the edge of the coffee table.

Stanley is whimpering and licking at Mitch’s pale, sweat-cold face, frantically checking on his terrified owner.

The television is still on. The announcers are talking about Arizona’s eventual shootout victory and how impressive Keller looked that night on the Power Play.

Mitch’s hands fly to his face, his neck, but he isn’t bleeding. He checks his broken knuckles, but they’re clean and a little dry. The only throbbing he feels is his pulse beating erratically against his skin. His skin tingles painfully like it always does after a horrific nightmare, and—

Oh. It was just a nightmare. None of it was real.

Mitch finally takes a deep, desperate breath, gently petting Stanley and letting the dog sniff his ears and his hands. He reaches for the remote and turns off the television. The silence makes his ears ring, but he’s afraid of what he might miss if there is any kind of noise.

He needs to take a Xanax and go to bed.

Mitch keeps his phone tightly gripped in his hand as he stands outside in the chilly air while Stanley does his business. Thankfully, Stanley doesn’t take long and is back by Mitch’s side in no time. Mitch checks all of the locks in every room of the house, occasionally petting Stanley when the dog senses Mitch’s anxiety spiking in spite of the medicine.

Mitch finally shuts off all the lights in the house from his phone—thank you, advanced technology—and closes the bedroom door behind him and Stanley. He locks the door and then checks the lock on the window again.

His blood turns to ice as soon as he pulls back the curtain.

There is a black sedan sitting on the street in front of his house with a man wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans standing outside the driver’s side of it. The car isn’t running, and the figure’s head is tilted up—looking straight at Mitch.

Mitch can’t see the man’s face, but he knows that car. He knows that hoodie. He knows what that man can do when given the opportunity. Mitch knows what that monster will do when he finally makes an inevitable mistake and forgets one pesky lock on a night where his guard will be down just enough.

Mitch knows that all the locks on every opening to his house, his fancy security system, and even Stanley can’t protect him.

Nothing can.

No one can.

  


**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS:
> 
> \- There are vague mentions of Mitch once being in a violent and abusive relationship, but nothing is explicitly talked about.
> 
> \- Auston has been stalking Mitch since the end of their relationship and still clearly has a hold on Mitch's life.
> 
> \- Mitch is very paranoid throughout the story and constantly checks on locks and his security system to make sure he is safe.
> 
> \- Mitch has an impending anxiety attack because he thinks someone is trying to break into his house and has to calm himself down on his own.
> 
> \- Auston breaks into Mitch's house, and the two men begin to violently fight each other through the house.
> 
> \- Violence occurs, and the characters are each injured by the end of the fight. Mild blood and brief descriptions of broken bones are mentioned.
> 
> \- The entire scenario where Auston breaks into Mitch's house ends up being a nightmare as Mitch wakes up on the couch, but he sees someone who is implied to be Auston standing outside of his house at the very end of the story.


End file.
